Bet Me
by UnityInDiversity
Summary: The biggest gamble of all is true love… --- Warning: although the rating of this story is T, the last chapter is leaning heavily towards the M-rating.
1. The Bet

**Disclaimer: **Bones and all the characters therein are owned by FOX, Hart Hanson and Kathy Reichs. Bet Me belongs to Jennifer Crusie. Thus, anything you recognize doesn't belong to me.

**Author's note:** _Bet Me_ is based on Jennifer Crusie's novel by the same title. Therefore, most of the credit goes to Crusie. I am well aware that this story is for a good part OOC, but since this is one of my favorite books (in the romantic comedy genre), I just couldn't resist using it. I hope you enjoy it as much as I had fun re-writing it.

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**Chapter One: The Bet**

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Here we go again, Dr. Temperance Brennan thought as she stood in the middle of a loud bar named The Long Shot. The name alone should have tipped her off. She looked into the well-structured face of the man she'd planned on taking to the wedding of her colleagues and friends Angela Montenegro and Jack Hodgins.

"This relationship is not working for me," Roger said. "And we both know why. I'm sorry, Tempe." Clearly, he was not.

Brennan crossed her arms over her dark blue suit jacket. "This is because I won't go home with you tonight? It's Thursday. I have to work tomorrow. You have to work tomorrow. I paid for my own drink."

"It's not that." Roger looked noble and wounded as only the tall, dark and self-righteous could. "You're not making any effort to make our relationship work, which means…"

_Which means that you still think I'm __emotionally distant and cold._ Brennan tuned him out and looked around at the babbling crowd. _I could shove a swizzle stick through his heart and none of these drunks would notice. _She wouldn't do it, of course. The stick was plastic and not nearly pointed enough on the end. Also, people didn't do things like that in Washington, D.C. A sawed-off shotgun, that was the ticket. However, she wouldn't do that either. Special Agent Seeley Booth didn't like her having a gun.

"And I do think, if we have any future, that you should contribute, too," Roger said.

"We have _plans_. Angela and Hodgins are getting married in three weeks. You're invited to the wedding. To the rehearsal dinner. To the bachelor party. You're going to miss the _stripper_, Roger. I've been told they are common for the male ritual of prenuptial celebration. Although, I'm not sure Hodgins will actually have one at his. So, perhaps you won't miss it after all."

"Is that all you think of me?" Roger's voice went up. "I'm just a date to your best friend's wedding?"

"Of course not," Brennan replied. "Just as I'm sure I'm more than just some emotionally distant and cold person you sleep with."

Roger opened his mouth and closed it again. "Well, of course. I don't want you to think this is a reflection on you. You're intelligent, you're successful…"

Brennan listened, knowing that _you're warm, you're sociable_ were not coming. If only he'd have a heart attack. She knew that only four percent of heart attacks in men happened before forty, but it could happen. And if he died, not even Angela could expect her to bring him to the wedding.

"And you're a wonderful writer," Roger finished up.

"Thank you," Brennan said. "That's so not romantic." She wasn't really one for romance, but it felt good to tell him that either way.

Roger sighed and took her hand. "I wish you the best, Tempe. Let's keep in touch."

Brennan took her hand back. "You're not feeling any pain in your left arm, are you?"

"No," Roger said, frowning at her.

"Pity," she muttered and went back to Angela, who was watching them from the far end of the room.

"He was looking even more uptight than usual," Angela said as she leaned on the jukebox, her hair flaming under the lights. "Are you upset with him, sweetie?"

"He dumped me."

"I knew I didn't like him," Angela said, shaking her head at Roger with naked contempt. "Now, can I finally ask you why you were dating him in the first place?"

"He was intelligent and successful and very nice at first. He seemed like a sensible choice. And you told me I needed a date for the wedding."

"It's a good thing he broke up with you because now you're free for when the right man finds you. Well, for when he finally opens his eyes," Angela told her with a grin. _When they would both open their eyes._ "By the way, did you see Booth come in already?"

"No."

"But he said he'd come to celebrate Zack's birthday with us, right?"

All the Squints had gone to the bar straight from work to celebrate Zack Addy's birthday. It had been Angela's idea and she had asked Brennan to invite Booth as well. The only one who hadn't been able to make it was Camille Saroyan. Earlier in the day, she had gone home sick with the flu, but had wished them all a good time.

"Yes. I'm sure he'll be here soon, Ange."

Angela began to scan the bar, then straightened. "Yes, we have a winner."

"What does that mean? A winner of what?"

"Of being your date for the wedding."

"I really don't think I need a date."

"Yes, you do. And aren't you curious who I'm talking about?"

Brennan rolled her eyes. "Who Angela?"

"Your knight in shining FBI standard issue body armor."

"Booth?"

"Ah, so you know who I'm talking about then. But yes, he just walked in and I think he's heading over to congratulate Zack. You see? They're on the landing up by the door."

Brennan squinted at the raised landing at the entry to the bar. Booth had not only found Hodgins and Zack up there, Roger was in close proximity as well, surveying his domain over the wrought-iron rail while he was talking to a brunette in red. The landing was only about five feet higher than the rest of the room, but Roger contrived to make it look like a balcony.

"That's Roger," Brennan said, turning away. "And some brunette. He's dating somebody else already." Even though she hadn't loved Roger, it stung to see him with another woman.

"Forget the brunette. Forget Roger. Look at Booth. That tight t-shirt does his body justice, don't you think?" Angela smirked.

"Ange, he's my partner!"

"I know."

"So you want Booth to be my date for the wedding?" Brennan frowned. "You already invited him. He's _part_ of the wedding even."

"Obviously, I'm aware of that. But it would be a nice wedding present for us if you'd come together."

"We _will_ probably come together. We did last time."

"I meant as lovers."

"Lovers? Ange, we're just partners. We're not going to cross that line."

"Having a line means it's there because you might want to cross it otherwise."

"We don't," Brennan said resolutely.

Angela grinned, again. "You know what?"

Brennan looked at her. "What?"

"Roger doesn't really like Booth, right? And vice versa. So, why don't you…"

"He doesn't? They don't?" Brennan interjected. _Why don't I ever notice these things?_

"I hate to break it to you, but no, sweetie. So, wouldn't it be nice to get back at Roger by asking Booth as your official date to the wedding right in front of his nose?"

"It would be immature. Besides I think that Roger already knows Booth will be there in the first place."

"But not as your official date. Please Bren, do it for me. It's the only wedding gift I want."

Brennan looked back at the landing and suddenly Angela's plan seemed like a good idea. Not only could she settle the score with Roger, who apparently hadn't wasted any time in finding someone to replace her with, it might also help Angela see that she and Booth were just partners and nothing more.

"If I ask Booth to the wedding as my official date, will you promise to never bring up this infatuation you have with us crossing any lines?"

Angela's eyes widened, not believing her friend would actually agree to her plan. "Yes."

"Alright, I'll do it."

**BBB**

Up on the landing, Seeley Booth was thinking seriously about pushing Roger Fisk over the railing. After congratulating Zack with his birthday and greeting Hodgins, he had reluctantly gone over to his partner's boyfriend, only to find out the man had dumped her minutes before his arrival. Now he was talking to another woman and for some reason it bothered him. He wanted to find Brennan and tell her he was sorry. Truth be told, he thought the man was a beast and was thus happy they were no longer together, but he wouldn't tell her that. However, when he saw that Brennan was talking to Angela by the bar, he decided that it was better to let her best friend do the comforting. If needed. He knew his partner would wave it off, but he was glad Angela was there for her.

Deciding to leave Roger alone instead of pushing him over the railing, Booth went back to Hodgins and Zack.

"Did you know they just broke up?" he asked the two scientists.

"Who broke up? You mean Dr. Brennan and Roger?" Hodgins asked, now understanding why Roger was chatting up the beautiful brunette in the red dress. Booth nodded in confirmation. "Well, it's a good thing Brennan ended things with him."

"It's the other way around actually."

"Roger dumped Dr. Brennan?" Zack asked.

Booth released a sigh. "Yes, Zack. Roger was the one who ended their relationship."

"Well, this opens the door for you to finally make a move," Hodgins said before taking another sip of his drink.

Booth's eyes widened. "What?"

"A thousand dollars if you take her out to dinner."

"What?" he repeated in disbelief.

Hodgins grinned. "Yes, I'm willing to bet you a thousand dollars if you'll get up the courage to have dinner with Brennan. Well, of course, I'm actually betting that you don't have the courage to do that. But I'm secretly hoping you do."

"A thousand? Sure."

Hodgins frowned. "No hesitation?"

Booth shrugged. "We go out to dinner all the time. I'm sure she'll go."

"You'll have to let her know it's a date, not just grabbing a bite to eat as partners."

Booth looked at Hodgins, then decided it couldn't hurt either way. His partner wouldn't regard it as a real date anyway and he would get paid to eat at a nice restaurant on top of that. "Okay, it's a bet. A thousand dollars if we'll have dinner, a date. That's it? No other stipulations?"

"You _want_ there to be more stipulations?"

"No, no," Booth replied quickly.

"I mean, that wouldn't be a problem. Consider it my birthday present to Zack. You know what, I'll bet you ten thousand in cash if you and Brennan finally rip each other's clothes off and sleep together. I'll play fair, though. I'll give you until the day after the wedding."

Booth glared at Hodgins. "That's not my kind of bet."

"And I don't actually want that," Zack stated, but both men ignored him.

"I'm not a pervert. It's just that it would make my wife-to-be so happy and in three weeks I'm going to vow to make her happy for the rest of our lives. I think this would be a good start," Hodgins explained with a grin. "And maybe then I'd finally stop hearing about the two of you. It'll be worth the money."

"If we'll ever sleep together, I certainly don't want to get paid for it," Booth told him. "That would be so wrong in so many ways."

Hodgins smirked. "So, it _is_ on your mind then?"

"We're just partners."

"Yeah, we've all heard that line before. Even if it's not part of the bet, think about it, okay?"

"I'd rather you spend your money on a drink. I'm kind of thirsty."

Hodgins nodded. "Alright. We'll take care of that first. Birthday boy, you up for another round, too?"

**BBB**

Brennan had walked across the room. When she neared the landing, she edged her way under the rail, catching faint snatches of conversation as she went, not stopping until she heard Hodgins' voice faintly above her, saying "I'll bet you ten thousand in cash if you and Brennan finally rip each other's clothes off and sleep together."

_What?_ Brennan thought. It was noisy up there, maybe she hadn't heard him correctly.

"I'll play fair, though," Hodgins went on. "I'll give you until the day after the wedding."

Brennan couldn't believe what she was hearing. From Hodgins no less, a man she highly respected. She forced herself to move on before she climbed the railing and killed not only Roger, but Booth and Hodgins as well. Instead, she headed back to Angela, fuming.

"What's wrong?" Angela asked when Brennan was back at the bar. "Did you ask him?"

"No. I think I'll go home." Brennan turned back to the balcony and caught sight of them, just as they caught sight of her. She watched Hodgins leave and Booth move toward the stairs. If he had really agreed to the bet, she didn't think she could work with him any longer. Then again, she still wanted to get back at Roger. It was a real toss-up.

"Will you tell me what's wrong?"

"Three weeks and a day."

Booth walked down the steps and made his way through the crowd, ignoring come-hither looks of the women he passed. He was coming to pick her up, Brennan understood. She settled back against the bar and examined the idea from all sides. Suppose she let him. Suppose somewhere in the next three weeks she'd sleep with him and take revenge on Roger by bringing him to Angela's wedding as her official date. He would agree to it if he wanted to get the ten thousand dollars Hodgins had promised him. And it was not like she hadn't done something like this before. She had kissed him under some mistletoe when Caroline Julian had blackmailed her into doing so. It hadn't been a problem. Obviously, sleeping with him went a lot farther than just a kiss. Then again, they would just be satisfying biological urges. It could be pleasurable. If she thought like that, it didn't sound so bad. However, for once, she couldn't think that rational. This was her partner. It would be crossing lines they weren't supposed to cross. Perhaps, if she could hold it off until the day after the wedding, she wouldn't actually have to go through with it. That sounded like a solid plan. It would teach her partner a lesson as well. He more than deserved to be tortured for three weeks, too. It was a plan, and as far as she could see, it was all good.

She ordered herself and Angela another beer, then told Angela to go up to Zack as he now found himself alone on the landing.

"I'm missing something here, am I?" Angela said, before Brennan waved her away, and she headed over to Zack with her drink.

Brennan took a large sip of beer and watched as Booth approached her with his charm smile plastered on his face. Her heart kicked up into her throat and she swallowed hard to get it back where it belonged.

"I have a problem," Booth started. His voice was low and smooth, warm enough to be charming, rich enough to clog arteries.

_No kidding,_ Brennan thought.

"Usually my line is, 'can I buy you a drink?', but you have one."

"Well, that is a problem."

"So, what I thought," he said, his voice dropping even lower as he leaned closer to her and made her heart pound. "Was that we could go somewhere else and I could buy you dinner."

Brennan had to bite her lip to keep herself from laughing. It was weird to have him act this way towards her. Weird and amusing. He was the used car salesman of seducers. You could never get a good deal from a used car salesman; they sold cars all the time and you only bought a couple in a lifetime, so they always won. Statistically speaking, you were toast before you walked on the lot. However, she had never bought a used car in her life, so perhaps resisting his seduction would be easy as well.

Booth's smile had disappeared while he waited for her answer and he looked vulnerable now, taking a chance on asking her out. Or perhaps he just faked it very well. _He is after all only doing this because of the bet_, she reminded herself.

"Dinner?"

"Yes." He bent still closer. "Somewhere more quiet where we can talk. Not about work, though, about us. It'll be a date."

Brennan looked over at the landing. She noticed that Hodgins had returned and had his arm around Angela. Zack was still there, as well as Roger and the brunette. "Alright. But first we'll have to say goodbye to Zack. It's his birthday, we can't leave without saying goodnight."

Booth nodded. "Fair enough."

The two of them made their way up to the landing, joining the others. Hodgins handed Booth the drink he'd promised and gotten him.

"Give it to someone else. I'm taking Bones out to dinner now."

"Yes, it's a date," Brennan added, loud enough for Roger to hear.

Angela and Hodgins smiled, both for different albeit partly similar reasons. Zack just took a sip of his drink. He knew what was going on, but didn't understand most of it. Roger turned his head away from the brunette to listen in on the conversation. Brennan noticed and shot him a glare, while thinking, _am I really going to go through with this?_

"Actually Booth, there is one more thing I'd like to ask you. Since Roger won't be accompanying me to the wedding any longer, I was wondering if you'd take his place?"

Booth raised his eyebrows in surprise, but then realized she was probably only asking him because Roger was in earshot. He would accept either way. "You mean as your date-date?"

"Yes, as my official date, as my plus-one. Or I can be your plus-one."

"Of course."

"Great," Brennan said and saw that Roger was looking jealous. _Good._

Angela squealed, clapping her hands in excitement, and Brennan decided it was best to say their goodbyes now. She gave Zack a hug and wished the others goodnight, then Booth followed her out of the bar.

**BBB**

"So, where are you taking me for this dinner date?" Brennan asked with amusement in her tone of voice. "The diner?"

"I was thinking we could go to Wong Foo's. It's in walking distance and we haven't been there for a while."

"That's true. It'd be nice to see Sid again."

"That's what I was thinking," Booth said as they began to walk. "Look out for the glass." He reached to take her arm to steer her around a broken beer bottle, but she had already detoured on her own, rotating away from him. He put his hands in his pockets instead and lengthened his stride. Brennan had no trouble following him with her long legs and did so until they reached the restaurant. Booth opened the door for her and she walked past him into the restaurant. Sid immediately came over to greet them and led them to a table.

"It nice to see you again," Sid mentioned as they sat down.

"Sorry we haven't been here in a while," Booth replied.

"Don't apologize. You're busy people. Working on a case right now?"

Brennan looked over at Booth and decided he could answer the question.

"Actually, we don't have a case at the moment. We're here on a… date."

Sid looked at his two clients with a smile. "I'm glad you guys finally found the time."

_Not him too_, Brennan thought. _Why does everyone think Booth and I belong together? Perhaps it wasn't such a good idea to let Booth tell him we're here on a date_.

As per usual, Sid returned with their meals before they'd ordered anything. As per usual, he had served them exactly what they wanted.

"Sid, you are a genius," Brennan complimented him and made a mental note to come more often. She had missed the food, the restaurant and its owner.

"I aim to please," Sid laughed, then left them alone.

"It's been a while since I've picked up anybody at a bar," Booth mentioned with a laugh before taking a first taste of his noodles.

Brennan looked at her watch as she chewed on her own food. She swallowed. "It's been twenty-eight minutes."

Booth laughed. "Besides you."

"Right. So tell me, why did you dub this a date?"

"Because we're not going to talk about work tonight."

"Why not?"

"Because we don't have a case."

"That's it?"

Booth nodded. "That's it."

_Liar,_ Brennan thought as they continued to eat. They didn't speak for a while and just enjoyed the food in front of them.

"So, what do you want to talk about then?" she couldn't help but ask. He had wanted to talk, yet kept his silence, which was unusual for him. For them, even.

"I don't know. We can talk about anything. I bet we can find something and prove Sweets wrong that all we can talk about is work."

Brennan raised her eyes at the word he'd used. "I don't bet."

Booth searched her eyes, trying to find out if she knew more. He couldn't be certain, however, and decided to let it go. "Tell me about Russ and his little girls. The one that was sick, how's she doing?"

"They're not actually his daughters."

"I know that, but they might become his stepdaughters one day, right?"

"Right," she nodded. "Her name is Haley. She has Cystic Fibrosis, but she's doing better now that my friend Dr. Leo Goetz is helping her."

"It was nice of you to help her," Booth replied. "And I'm glad she's doing better."

"Me, too."

There was a skirmish at the end of the meal when Booth insisted on paying for both of them as he'd invited her to dinner. It was a date, so he would pay. Brennan looked as though she was going to argue for a moment, but then she nodded, remembering it was all part of the bet anyway. If he'd win, Hodgins would pay him ten thousand dollars, so she figured he could afford to pick up the tab.

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**_Reviews are greatly appreciated!_**

**_The second chapter will be up soon..._**


	2. The Game

**Author's note:** thanks to those who have read and reviewed the first chapter. I truly appreciate your feedback!

**Disclaimer: **Bones and all the characters therein are owned by FOX, Hart Hanson and Kathy Reichs. Bet Me belongs to Jennifer Crusie. Thus, anything you recognize doesn't belong to me.

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**Chapter Two: The Game**

When Booth got to work the next morning, the sun was shining through the windows in his office at the J. Edgar Hoover building, the smell of coffee permeated the room. He sat down behind his desk, ready to start on the boring part of his job, namely the paperwork, when Hodgins knocked on his door, a visitor's badge clipped to his shirt. Booth beckoned him to come inside.

"Nice going last night. Tell me you won," Hodgins smirked.

"What are you talking about?" Booth said, feigning innocence.

"Our bet. Tell me you won it."

"Sure. You saw me leave with Bones and you heard her say it was a date."

"You're right, you're right, I should have had faith in you, man."

"You should," Booth said as he turned on his computer.

"So, did you win both bets? Did you two finally sleep together?"

"What? Of course we didn't."

"Oh," Hodgins nodded with a grin. "Well, you've still got three weeks."

"Hodgins, I didn't agree to that part of the bet. Just the dinner date."

"I know, which is why I only brought the thousand dollars anyway," Hodgins replied as he pulled the wad of money out of his pocket and handed it to Booth. "Here you go, you've earned it."

Booth eyed the money Hodgins was holding out to him. "That's actually a thousand dollars?" He knew Hodgins was rich, but to him it was a lot of cash.

"Yes, take it."

Booth reluctantly accepted the money. "Thanks."

"You're welcome. Treat your son to some nice toys or take Brennan out again."

Booth just nodded.

"So, how did it go?" Hodgins continued as he went to sit down across from Booth, pulling his feet up on the desktop. Booth gave him a glare and he quickly sat upright.

"It went fine. We went to Wong Foo's, had dinner, talked, then I walked her back to her car."

"Did you kiss her goodnight?"

"I kissed her cheek, actually."

"Hmm, I don't know if that counts. If it had been a real date, you should've at least kissed her on the mouth."

"Well, you said there were no stipulations."

"Damn, you got me there. I should have thought about that longer," Hodgins said as he stood up. "Well, enjoy the money."

"I will."

"And remember, you've got three weeks left," Hodgins said right before he left the office so he couldn't hear Booth's protests.

**BBB**

Later that day, Booth drove over to the Jeffersonian Institute, even though there was no new case and no paperwork to go over with his partner. He just wanted to see her. Also because he didn't know if Brennan had found out about the bet yet. Perhaps Hodgins had told Angela, and if she knew, everyone would know, including Brennan. If that was the case, his partner might insist on getting either an apology or five hundred dollars.

He walked into the lab, swiped his card and climbed the steps onto the platform where he found the Squints hard at work. Brennan and Hodgins were huddled over skeletal remains, deep in discussion. Angela was drawing a face on her clipboard and Zack, who was closest to Booth, sat behind a microscope. He looked up from his research.

"I heard you struck out," Zack said to him.

Booth's head shot in his direction. "I asked her to dinner and she went. Then I walked her to her car and said goodbye. I did not strike out, Zack."

Zack frowned. "So, there are women who you can't get."

"Of course, Zack. But that's not the point. I didn't strike out, because I didn't _try_ to get her. Bones and I are just partners."

When Zack returned to his work, apparently satisfied with that answer, Booth looked over at his partner, who didn't seem to have overheard their conversation. Perhaps he could ask her to lunch tomorrow, since it was the weekend and they shouldn't be working. At least, he wasn't going to and he would try to prevent her from working on limbo cases in her free time, as well.

Having finished her discussion with Hodgins, Brennan headed over to Booth, asking him if he was there because they had a case. He told her they still didn't.

"Well, I don't suppose you're here just to watch us work."

Booth laughed. "No, I'm not. I came to ask if you wanted to meet Parker and me for lunch tomorrow. You know where Cherry Hill Park is?"

"I've heard of it. Why there?"

"Parker plays softball there tomorrow. There's a picnic area on the north side. I'll meet you at the first table tomorrow at noon."

"I haven't actually said I was going yet."

"Pretty please with a cherry on top?" Booth pouted.

"A cherry, huh? Clever," Brennan laughed. "Alright, I'll be there."

"Great, I'll see you tomorrow then," Booth said as Angela approached them and he decided it was better to leave, wanting to dodge any questions she had for him. "Bye!"

"Okay, I had trouble overhearing your conversation," Angela said, standing next to Brennan now. "What was he asking you?"

Brennan shook her head at her best friend. "I'm going to lunch tomorrow with him and Parker."

"Great, that prevents you from spending your weekend at the lab. Where are you going?"

"Cherry Hill Park. Parker plays softball there."

"What time?"

"Noon."

Angela nodded, then raised her voice and called Hodgins. He came over to them. "You and I are having lunch at noon tomorrow in Cherry Hill Park."

Brennan's eyes widened. "What? Angela, no."

"We'll be at a safe distance. Don't worry."

"Ange…"

"It's a public park, sweetie. We have every right to be there."

Brennan groaned, knowing she couldn't refute that argument, and went back to work.

**BBB**

After dropping Parker off at the softball field, where his team was about to start their warming up, and whishing him good luck, Booth grabbed the cooler from his car, stopped by the charity hot dog stand for the main course and went to meet Brennan at the picnic table he'd told her about. She wasn't there yet, so he threw an old blanket across the massive teak table, put the basket on it and then sat on top of the table, awaiting her arrival. It was a beautiful day and the park was thick with shade trees.

Brennan came into the park through those trees, following the curving crushed gravel path. Her stride was long and loose as she came toward him and she smiled at him as she drew closer. Booth offered her his hand to help her up on the table. She hesitated and then took it, boosting herself up beside him on the table.

"Hi," she said and he grinned at her.

"Hi. Thank you for coming."

"Thank you for inviting me," Brennan said as she dropped her bag on the bench below them. "Where's Parker?"

"Over there, with his team. They've just started warming up," Booth said and pointed in the general direction of the softball field. Then he dumped the bag of wrapped hot dogs out on the blanket and handed her one. "Have a hot dog while we talk."

"Hot dogs?"

"Yeah, they're very softball, don't you think?"

"I suppose. I've never been to a softball game before."

"Well, hot dogs go pretty much hand in hand with any kind of sporting event."

"Good to know," Brennan said as she unwrapped it and took a first bite. "It's nice."

She leaned over to take another bite, keeping the sandwich over the waxed paper to catch the drippings. The fact that she had to lean over to do so, had Booth looking down the v-neck of her shirt. He couldn't help it. He was drawn in and saw a lot of lush round flesh in tight black lace, making him a little lightheaded.

Trying to get rid of his impure thoughts, Booth picked up his own hot dog. "So, when was the last time you had one of these babies?"

Brennan seemed to think about her answer. "Probably before my parents disappeared."

"Well, that's a long time ago. You never had one after that?"

"Can't remember if I did."

"You should come with us more often. Parker and I have them almost every time we're here," Booth said and handed her a can of soda.

"Thanks," Brennan said, taking the can from him and putting it next to her on the blanket. She finished the last of her hot dog and then licked a smear of ketchup off her thumb. Booth almost lost his train of thought again. "You'd have to invite me," she said when she'd wiped her hands on a napkin.

"I will if you can get through this day alright."

"Way to advertise it, Booth. You think I won't enjoy myself?"

"I certainly hope you will. But I know you don't like sports, so I don't have my hopes up too high," Booth replied. "How about dessert?" He pulled a waxed paper bag from the cooler. "Doughnuts. At least I'm sure you like those."

"Looks good," Brennan said. She took a sip of soda from the can. "Booth, I know you and Parker enjoy sports, that's why I'm willing to give it a try. Besides, I'm here, aren't I?"

"Yes, you are." Booth smiled, handing her a doughnut. "You know, this isn't just a doughnut," he said, tearing his own in two pieces, the chocolate icing and glaze breaking like frost, the tender pastry pulling apart in shreds. "This is a chocolate-iced Krispy Kreme glazed. This is the caviar of doughnuts, the Dom Perignon of doughnuts, the Mercedes-Benz of doughnuts." He licked his lips then took a large bite.

Brennan laughed. "I don't know about that, but it is good."

"It's Parker's favorite, too, so I promised him we'd save him one."

"I can understand why you both like them so much," Brennan replied after having tasted her own doughnut. "I normally only eat the plain ones, but I have to admit that, although they're a little sweet, they are heavenly."

"I'm glad you agree."

Booth watched as she popped another piece of doughnut in her mouth, her lips closing over the sweetness. Her face was beautifully blissful, her mouth soft and pouted, her full lower lips glazed with icing. As she teased the last of the chocolate from her lip, Booth realized he had never seen her this way before and he loved it. More so, he realized he loved _her_. He breathed deeper and before she could open her eyes, he leaned in and kissed her, tasting the chocolate and the heat of her mouth. She froze for a moment, but then kissed him back, sweet and insistent, blanking out all coherent thought. He let the taste and the scent and the warmth of her wash over him, drowning in her. And when she finally pulled back, he almost fell into her lap. Her shirt was rising and falling under quick breaths, her blue eyes flashing, wide awake, her lush lips parted, open for him.

Booth's eyes were as dark as the chocolate on the doughnuts and Brennan panicked as he leaned close again. _We're definitely crossing lines now._ She put her hand on his chest to stop him, but he picked up another piece of doughnut and slipped it in her mouth. The heat of her mouth dissolved the icing as she closed her eyes and the tang went everywhere, melting into pleasure. When she opened her eyes, he leaned forward again and kissed her softly, his mouth fitting hers so perfectly that she trembled. She tasted the heat of him and licked the chocolate off his lip. She felt his tongue against hers, hot and devastating, and when he broke the kiss, she was breathless and dizzy and aching for more. He held her eyes, looking as dazed as she felt.

"More," she said and he reached for the pastry, but she stopped him. "No, _you_." She grabbed his shirt to pull him closer and he kissed her hard this time, his hand on the back of her head. She fell into him and then she felt his hand on her waist, sliding hot under her shirt.

Someone squealed nearby and they immediately pulled apart. Standing next to the picnic table were Angela and Hodgins, with grins on their faces, as Booth and Brennan looked like two deer caught in the headlights.

"Sorry for interrupting," Angela said sheepishly.

Booth coughed, his face flushed. "We were just having dessert."

"As partners I predict," Hodgins grinned.

"Yeah…"

"Dessert?" Angela said, looking down at the table, then at Brennan. "You're eating doughnuts?"

"What are you? The calorie police?" Brennan laughed, but looked somewhat guilty.

"No, you can eat all the doughnuts you want, as long as you fit into your bridesmaid dress," Angela told her. "Wait, wait… We're talking about pastries here? We just caught you making out! _That's_ what I want to know more about."

"What _I_ would like to know is what the two of you are doing here?" Booth asked, then looked at Brennan. "You invited them?"

"They invited themselves, I'm afraid."

"We came to watch your son play softball of course," Hodgins said.

"Although we've probably already seen the most interesting thing of the day," Angela added. "Can I just say… finally!"

"That's nice, Angela," Booth said, then looked at his watch. "The game is about to start, so why don't we head over to the field and find ourselves a place to sit?"

"Sounds like a plan," Hodgins said.

"You two can go ahead. We'll clean up the table first."

"Yeah, that'll give you some more time to kiss," Angela teased, but grabbed her fiancé's hand nonetheless and took him with her. "We'll see you there."

Both knowing they needed to talk, but at the same time not knowing where to start the conversation, they left it for what is was and silently packed up the cooler. They took the cooler and the blanket back to Booth's car and then headed over to the softball field. They joined Angela and Hodgins on the bleachers and waved at Parker.

Angela, who sat in between Hodgins and Brennan, leaned closer to the latter. "So, is he a good kisser?" she asked in a whisper.

"Yes," Brennan answered. _Pretty good. Very good. World class. Phenomenal. Woke me right up. Plus there were the doughnuts, which were amazing._ She thought about Booth again, all that heat and urgency. It was hot and unexpected and forbidden. They were partners. They couldn't do this. Shouldn't have done this. She knew all of that, but still felt a shiver run down her spine.

Angela smiled. "Really? I knew it."

"Just for that minute or two. I kind of enjoyed it." _A lot._

"So, what happens next?"

"I don't know, Ange. We're just partners."

Angela rolled her eyes. "Oh for heaven's sake, would you stop that? Obviously you're much more than that. Bet or no bet…"

Brennan's eyes widened. "Hodgins told you, didn't he?"

"Yes, he can't keep anything from me. That's why you were so angry at the bar, right?"

"Yes, but then I thought I could use it to my advance. You know, make Roger jealous by asking Booth to be my official date for the wedding…"

"Yes, I know, the copyrights of that idea still belong to me."

Brennan smiled. "I guess they do."

"So, what does all this mean?"

"Honestly, I don't know. We'll have to see."

"Well, that's something."

"I think it's Parker's turn to hit the ball, so we should watch him, Ange."

"Alright," Angela said, giving up her inquisition with a sigh.

Parker batted the ball and ran to first base while they all cheered him on. When the next hitter got ready for his turn, Booth glanced over at Brennan. He'd had no intentions of kissing her—no real intentions anyway—and then he'd jumped her, some insane impulse shoving him into her lap. And she'd been no help. She should have slapped him silly and reminded him of the line he had drawn. Instead, she had wanted more, egging him on.

Now, he didn't know where they stood. Even less so than before they had crossed the line. It was confusing. She was confusing. They were confusing. And he was probably to blame for that.

* * *

**Feedback is greatly appreciated, so don't hestitate to let me know what you think!**

**Chapter three will probably be up some time tomorrow...**


	3. The Strike Out

**Author's note:** I'd like to thank everyone who has read and reviewed the first two chapters. Your encouragements are greatly appreciated and made my day! Thank you!

**Disclaimer: **Bones and all the characters therein are owned by FOX, Hart Hanson and Kathy Reichs. Bet Me belongs to Jennifer Crusie. Thus, anything you recognize doesn't belong to me.

* * *

**Chapter Three: The Strike Out**

On Monday Booth and Brennan finally had a case to work on together. However, the death of the man hadn't been a big mystery, so after identifying him and interviewing the confessor to the murder, their work was done and the case was left in the hands of prosecutor Caroline Julian.

As they were working the case, the partners hadn't discussed what had happened on the picnic table in Cherry Hill Park on Saturday afternoon. They had kept their conversations strictly professional, because neither of them knew what to say or how to deal with it elseway. At the end of the day, they had simply parted ways.

When Brennan entered her apartment that evening, she didn't feel like cooking. She was hungry and craving Chinese food, however, so she decided to place a call to Wong Foo's to ask Sid if he by any chance delivered.

**BBB**

"Don't tell me," Sid said when Booth plopped himself down on a barstool. "More fried rice and Peking duck for the pretty doctor."

"She isn't coming. It's just me tonight."

Sid looked at his favorite customer, deciding what to make of that comment and the look on his face. "What did you do?"

"What did I do? Nothing," Booth told him, playing with the coaster. _Yeah, right._

"If you say so," Sid replied as the phone rang.

"I'll just have the usual and maybe some…" Booth stopped when Sid held up his hand and answered the phone.

Sid listened and then looked at Booth over his shoulder. "I usually don't, but for such a special customer, I'll make an exception. Fried rice and Peking duck, right? No, no… no trouble at all. You can overtip the delivery boy." He hung up and smiled at Booth. "That was your partner. She wants fried rice and duck. You can deliver it to her."

"What?" Booth said, dumbfounded.

"I'm sure you know the way. It's probably on your way home."

"It isn't really. And what gave you the idea I'd do this?"

"I don't know. She called, you were here, you two are great together, it seemed like a good idea. Are you sure you didn't have a fight?"

"No, we didn't have a fight," Booth said. _Far from. The only fight that occurred was one between tongues._ "Just call her back and tell her your delivery boy died."

"Then she won't have anything for dinner. You don't want her to starve, now do you?"

Booth thought about the look on Brennan's face when she ate fried rice and Peking duck. It was almost as good as the look on her face when she ate doughnuts. Which wasn't anywhere near as good as the look on her face when he'd kissed her. That had been…

Sid shrugged. "Fine. I'll have someone else take it to her."

"No," Booth said. "I'll take it to her. Hurry up, will you? I'm hungry."

Forty minutes later, Booth was standing in front of Brennan's apartment. She looked surprised when she opened the door at his knock. He felt pretty stunned himself. As far as he could see, all she was wearing was a very long, very old blue sweatshirt and lumpy sweatsocks. Her hair was pulled up in a messy ponytail and she wasn't wearing any makeup, so the only color on her face was a growing blush. She tugged on the hem of the shirt, but it didn't stretch much.

"This is how you open the door to delivery guys?" Booth asked, staring at her long legs.

"Stop ogling. I have shorts on under this." She pulled up the edge of her shirt and he saw baggy plaid boxers that were only marginally less ugly than her shirt and socks.

"Aren't you going to invite me in? After all, I brought food," Booth said, holding up the bag of Chinese food for her to see.

Brennan stepped aside and he entered her apartment. He headed over to her couch and dropped the bag on her coffee table, while Brennan went to the kitchen counter to get her purse. "Let me pay you or Sid or whoever."

Booth sat down on the couch. "No."

"How much do I owe you?"

"Nothing."

"Look, you're not going to pay for my dinner. You did me a favor by bringing it, so…"

"There's enough food there for an army," Booth told her. "If you want company, I'm staying and eating half of it. If you don't, I'll get up from the couch and take half with me."

Brennan smiled at him. "You can stay, of course." She walked into the kitchen to get them some plates, chopsticks and something to drink. "You want a beer?"

"Please."

Brennan nodded. She took the two plates, chopsticks and two beers over to Booth and placed them on the coffee table. Then, she sat down next to him on the couch.

"At least let me pay for half of the dinner."

"No," Booth said adamantly as he began to unpack Sid's bag, trying not to look at her sweats. It was nice of her to dress so badly. If she'd been wearing that shirt with the plunging v-neck again, he might have had a problem.

"Alright, I give up," Brennan said as she opened the carton of fried rice. "Mmm."

"Good. I was beginning to think you would never learn."

"Dr. Goodman once told me I have a disturbingly steep learning curve."

"Not when it comes to this, I'm afraid."

Brennan just stuck out her tongue at him. Booth quickly began to eat his food, trying to get rid of the images of what that tongue could do to him. What that tongue had done to him. He felt a little dizzy.

"Maybe I should have you deliver food more often. This is so good," Brennan said with a content sigh before taking a bite of the duck. She got the same blissful look she always got when eating good food.

"I wouldn't have a problem with that," Booth replied and took a slug of his beer.

"Good to know."

"About Saturday…" Booth started.

"Do we have to talk about that now?"

"I just wanted to say that Parker was really excited about you being there. He told me he'd like you to come with us again next time."

"Really?"

"Uh huh. Unless, of course, you didn't enjoy yourself."

Brennan blushed. She knew he was referring to the softball game, but she couldn't help thinking back to their tryst on the picnic table. "I did. Enjoy myself, I mean."

"Good. It's a date."

"Another one? Or another bet?"

Booth's eyes widened. _She knew?_ He gulped. He was in trouble now. "What?"

"There was a bet, wasn't there?"

"Can I finish dinner before you throw me out?"

"You don't deny it then?"

"Obviously, you found out about it, so there's no use in denying it then, right?"

"You're taking losing that bet pretty well."

Booth frowned. "I didn't lose."

"You already collected on it?"

"You walked out the door with me. I won."

"And everybody just _assumes_…"

"Assumes what?" Booth said, exasperated. "Hodgins bet me a lot of money I could get you to go to dinner with me. We went. Hodgins paid. Can we move on?"

She didn't understand and disbelief was palpable in her voice. "So, the bet's over?"

"Yes," Booth said, moving beyond exasperation. "You want half of the money or something? You're loaded, I didn't think I needed to share my earnings. So, why are you mad?"

_Perhaps because you're not telling me everything about the bet. And how can it be over if we haven't ripped each other's clothes off and slept together?_ "No reason at all," Brennan said flatly and went back to her duck.

"I'm missing something big here, aren't I?"

"Yep. Keep eating."

Booth offered to help with the dishes, but Brennan shoved him out the door, fed up with him because of the bet and with herself for caring. She put the leftovers from Wong Foo's in the fridge and then went into her bedroom and crawled under the comforter.

**BBB**

The next few days, Brennan began screening her calls to duck Roger, who had developed a pressing need to talk to her, but she didn't need to screen for Booth, who remained annoyingly silent. It was really frustrating avoiding calls of someone who didn't have the decency to pick up a phone. _Why isn't he calling? Don't we have a case?_

On Thursday the phone rang and, not recognizing the number, she answered it.

"Hello Dr. Brennan, it's Rebecca Stinson," the woman on the other line said. "Parker's mother."

"Hi Rebecca."

"I'm sorry to bother you at work, but I couldn't find a home listing and this is the number Seeley gave me, you know, in case of an emergency…"

"Is there an emergency?" she asked, worried something might have happened to Booth. _That might also explain the lack of phone calls from him, _she thought.

"No no, it's just that Parker wants to ask you something. Just a moment."

Brennan heard the phone clunk a little and then Parker came on.

"Dr. Bones?" he said, breathing hard into the phone.

"Yes," she said, grinning. "How are you, Parker?"

"I'm fine. Are you coming to the park Saturday?"

"Well, I wasn't…"

"Because you could come to my game. It's at eleven o'clock. In the morning. And we could have a doughnut," Parker said, trying to convince her to come and simultaneously sounding a lot like his father.

_How could she resist? _"Sure," she said. "Why not? I'll get the doughnuts."

"My daddy will get them. He knows what kind we like."

"Well, good," Brennan said, regrouping. "Thank you for…"

Parker dropped the phone and she heard Rebecca tell him to say goodbye politely. Parker came back on. "Goodbye." Then, he dropped the phone again.

"Hello?" Rebecca said when she'd picked it up.

"Hello," Brennan said, trying not to laugh.

"We're still working on our phone skills."

"He did pretty good."

"I appreciate this. Parker was really excited that you and your colleagues came to watch his game last weekend."

"We all had fun. I'll make sure I'll be there at eleven," Brennan replied and then sat for a moment after Rebecca hung up.

That hadn't been Booth's idea. If he'd still wanted her there, he'd have called her. He probably didn't even know she was coming. She thought about surprising him on Saturday. It would be good to take _him_ off guard for a change, catch _him_ flatfooted.

**BBB**

On Saturday morning, Booth was watching a particularly hopeless outfielder named Bentley try to throw a ball. Unfortunately, the boy was on his son's team. A ball rolled past his feet and he bent to pick it up, when something in the bleachers caught his eye. His son was climbing up to the top. He looked past Parker and saw Brennan, sitting at the top, her hair loose, glinting in the sun. Her face lit up when she saw Parker and he lost his breath for a moment.

When Brennan had gotten to the park, the kids were warming up and she saw Parker out on the field. He saw her and smiled the Booth smile at her and she couldn't help smiling back. _Just like his father._ She climbed up to the top of the bleachers and felt the wind ruffle her hair and the fluttery sleeves of her blouse as she sat down. She tried to watch Parker, but it was hard because Booth was there and her eyes kept going to him. _We're just partners_, she told herself, but knew they weren't. They were something else, she just hadn't figured out what exactly.

"Hi Dr. Bones," Parker said when he was one row down. He was beaming at her and she smiled back because anybody would.

"Hey Parker," she said. "How's it going?"

"Good. I'm going to play softball. I think my team will win."

"Then we'll celebrate with a doughnut afterward."

"Cool," Parker said, bobbing his head.

"You're looking good down there on the field. You can really throw that ball," Brennan said, guessing.

He beamed. "Thanks. Daddy practices with me. He's really good."

"I bet," she told him, then flinched at her own choice of words. She didn't want to think about any bets right now.

"I think I need to go back, the game is about to start."

"Good luck, Parker."

"Thanks," Parker said before trailing down the bleachers.

The game soon started and Brennan decided to stay at the top of the bleachers, so she could keep an eye on Booth, especially since he didn't seem to move either. She turned back to the field to see a batter hit a wobbly shot into left field where a kid on Parker's team bobbled the ball.

Booth stood up to make his way over to Brennan, when the kid in the outfield picked up the ball and threw it with desperation and an impossible force for a seven-year-old. It smacked Booth on the head, knocking him off balance so that he fell to his knees and then to the ground.

Brennan zapped down the bleachers and went down on her knees beside him as he tried to sit up. "Booth?"

He looked dazed, so she stared into his eyes, trying to see if his pupils were different sizes. They weren't. His eyes were the same hot, dark depths they always were and she fell into them again, growing breathless.

When she finally looked up she saw Parker's coach, Tony Capa, coming around to kneel beside Booth, too. "Are you all right?" he asked.

Brennan looked down at Booth again to see him still staring at her. "Booth?"

The assassin from the outfield came running up together with Parker. "Did you see that, Mr. Capa? I really threw it."

"At my daddy. Is he alright?" Parker said, looking worried as he touched his father's shoulder. Booth nodded at his son, silently telling him not to worry. Parker hugged him.

"Yeah, you did, Bentley," Tony Capa told the boy.

"I knew I could do it," Bentley said. "I saw Wyman getting close to third base and something just _told me_ I could do it. And I really _threw_ that sucker, boy."

"Yeah," coach Capa said. "Too bad you missed third base by a mile and took out Mr. Booth."

"Booth, say something or I'm taking you to the ER now," Brennan told him.

"I really _threw that sucker_," Bentley repeated.

Coach Capa looked at Brennan. "You better take him. The Cherry Hill ER is up the road a mile. I'll make sure Parker will be taken back to his mother's home. I have her contact information, so don't worry about it."

Brennan nodded, then helped Booth to his feet, trying to steady him as he lurched and coach Capa took his other side.

**BBB**

Booth lay on the table in the ER, trying to remember what had happened. He'd been staring at Brennan, watching the breeze flutter the ends of her blouse and tousle her hair. He had been contemplating going over to her and then that ball had come out of nowhere and…

"Booth?" Brennan said, leaning over him. The fluorescent light above backlit her hair and she looked like an angel.

"Hi."

"The doctor said you're going to be alright. I just filled your prescription," she said, holding up an amber plastic bottle. "For the pain. In case you have headaches. Do you have a headache?"

His head felt like it was in a vise. "Yes."

She opened the bottle and dumped two pills into her palm. "Here," she said, handing them to him. "I'll get water."

Booth thought about telling her that he'd already had a pain pill and then decided that since the damn thing wasn't working, two more would be good. When she returned with the water, Booth propped himself up to take the pills.

"It was Bentley, right?" he said bitterly.

"I'm sure he'll be sorry," Brennan nodded. "When he gets over how hard he threw the ball."

"Little bastard," Booth said without heat. "Where's Parker?"

"His coach assured me he would be brought home. He said he has Rebecca's contact information. I wasn't wrong to trust him, right?" Brennan asked, suddenly worried.

"No, Capa is a good man. Thank you."

"No problem."

Booth's eyes dropped to her blouse, looking through the thin fabric to the equally thin camisole underneath and he almost fell off the table.

"Easy," Brennan said, breathless as she tried to prop up his weight and he looked down the open neck of her blouse and saw white lace under the camisole. "Come on, I'll take you home."

"Alright."

Half an hour later, Brennan pulled up in front of Booth's apartment. "Let's go," she said and opened the car door for him.

"I can get up there myself," Booth said, weaving a little as he got out.

"You're not going up there alone." Brennan pulled his arm across her shoulders. It felt good there, if heavy. "You wouldn't let me either."

She herded him upstairs to his apartment, opened the door with the key he gave her and steered him through the living room into his bedroom. "How are you feeling?" she asked him as she guided him towards his bed.

"Better," he said, sounding groggy. "The drugs kicked in."

She nodded and shouldered him toward the bed. He bounced when he sat down. He fell back onto the pillows, but his feet still hung off the side. She pulled off his shoes, picked up his feet and threw them on the bed, but then realized he was too close to the edge. If he rolled off in his sleep, he'd hit his head on the bedside table. She shoved at him to get him to the center of the bed.

"What are you doing?" he asked, half asleep as she tried to rock him over.

"Trying to keep you safe," she replied as she put one knee on the bed and shoved again. "Roll over, will you?"

He rolled just as she shoved and knocked them both off balance. She grabbed at him to save herself and he pulled her down with him.

"I should be awake in eight hours," he yawned into her hair. "Stick around."

"Fine," she said into his chest. "Fall on the floor. Get a concussion."

He didn't say anything, so she shoved at him again, but it was like shoving at a wall. She stopped to consider the situation. There was something very protective in the way he held on to her. Thoughtful. He began to snore. Instinctive.

"Okay," she said and squirmed around until she got one foot on the floor and shoved off, toppling him over onto his back in the middle of the bed, which stopped his snoring. Then she stood up and looked at him for a moment, sprawled out on the bedspread. He began to snore again. She opened his closet door and found a blanket folded on the top shelf, over a tasteful collection of expensive suits. She snapped the blanket over him. He breathed deeper and she looked down at the beautiful strong bones of his face, his lashes like smudges on his cheeks as he slept. _I could love you_, she thought. She straightened and returned to reality. She put his shoes where he wouldn't trip over them. Then, she got him a glass of water for his bedside table, made sure his pills were within reach and pulled the blanket up so he wouldn't get chilled. Then, at a loss as to what to do next, she patted his shoulder and left.

* * *

**_Constructive criticism is more than welcome!_**

**_The fourth chapter will be up soon!_**


	4. The Move Forward

**Author's note:** thanks again to everyone who has left a review!

**Disclaimer: **Bones and all the characters therein are owned by FOX, Hart Hanson and Kathy Reichs. Bet Me belongs to Jennifer Crusie. Thus, anything you recognize doesn't belong to me.

* * *

**Chapter Four: The Move Forward**

Brennan was sitting at her desk, trying to be sensible, when the phone rang. _Booth_, she thought and then kicked herself. They had a good sensible plan that would prevent either of them from getting hurt as long as they wouldn't cross the lines, again. They were logical, rational people, at least she was, so that certainly wasn't him calling. For some reason she didn't think of checking the caller ID first. When the phone rang again, she picked it up.

"Dr. Brennan," she said and waited for Booth to say, _Bones, we have a case._

"Tempe," Roger said instead. "Have lunch with me. We need to talk."

"No, we don't," Brennan said, reminding herself of sticking to her routine of checking the caller ID and trying hard not to be disappointed. "But I do need lunch. We can go Dutch."

"No, I'll pay," Roger said. "I mean, I'd like to pay."

"Sure, fine," Brennan said, confused by her own answer.

"I'll meet you at Serafino's at noon then?"

"Is that the place where the chef is trying to make a statement with food?"

"It's the hottest place in town."

"Alright," Brennan said and hung up, chalking the whole thing up to the general weirdness of her life lately.

When she got to the restaurant, Roger was waiting. He stood and smiled when he saw her and then he stared. She ignored his stare and sat down at the inlaid table. "I'm starving. What's good here?" She looked around at the silver and blue. "Besides the decorating?"

"I already ordered," Roger told her. "I didn't want you to have to wait."

"Thoughtful of you," Brennan replied. She called the waiter back and changed her order.

"I think I made a mistake," Roger said when the waiter had placed his bowl of chilled chestnut watercress soup in front of him.

"I think so, too," Brennan said, looking at the beautifully garnished sludge in his bowl. "You're going to hate that soup. There's a hot dog vendor outside. Maybe we should…"

"Not the order." Roger took a deep breath and smiled. "Tempe, I want you back."

Brennan put her fork down. "What?"

"I was hasty," Roger said and went on while Brennan thought, _you're jealous I'm taking Booth to the wedding. As my date. And not you._

She sat back and considered the situation as Roger rambled on.

"Are you listening to me?" Roger asked.

"No," Brennan replied. "Why are you doing this?"

"That's what I was just telling you…"

"No, you were telling me about you. You were hasty, you were thoughtless, you were stupid…"

"I didn't say stupid," Roger said, sounding testy.

"Where am I in all of this?"

"In my life, I hope," Roger said and he sounded so sincere, Brennan was taken aback. "I asked you out in the beginning because I thought you'd make a good wife and I still think that, but what I missed was how sweet you are."

Brennan raised her eyebrows. "I'm not. And if you knew me at all, you'd know that I don't believe in marriage. You just figured I'd make a good wife because I have more money than you."

"And how sexy you are," Roger continued, not listening to her.

"Roger, this is buyer's remorse, or the opposite buyer's remorse. If you got me back, you'd dump me again. You don't think I'm sweet or sexy, you found me emotionally distant and cold."

"I was wrong. So, what I'm trying to tell you is that I think we should date again."

"No, you don't. You're panicking because I'm dating somebody else," she told him, knowing it was a lie. _I'm not dating Booth._ _I wish._ "Taste your soup."

"I'm not…"

"The soup."

Roger tasted the soup and made a face. "What the hell?"

"I told you," Brennan said, pushing her own plate away. "Never go anyplace the chef is trying to talk with food. You'll end up paying for his ego. Sort of like dating." She picked up her purse. "Roger, we have no future. We're not even going to finish this lunch, although I do appreciate you paying for it. Thank you."

"Where are you going?" Roger asked, outraged as she stood up.

"To get a hot dog."

**BBB**

The next evening at seven, Sid called Booth. "Your partner ordered takeout again. You taking it to her?"

"Yes," Booth said automatically and then remembered they weren't seeing each other. "No." Which didn't mean they couldn't be friends and they were, at the very least, partners. "Yes." They didn't have a case, however. "No."

"Uh huh," Sid said. "So, that's a no?"

On the other hand, he had to eat. And he should thank her for taking care of him on Saturday. And he wanted to see her. "No," Booth said. "That's a yes. I'll take it to her."

After putting the phone down, Booth quickly grabbed his wallet and car keys, then made his way over to the restaurant. Having received the bag of food from Sid, he drove over to Brennan's apartment. She opened the door in her godawful sweats again, no makeup and her hair in a bun. She looked wonderful.

"Hi," she said, sounding surprised and then she grinned. "Sid shanghaied you, huh?" She frowned. "That's the correct term, right?"

"Yes and he said you were starving," Booth replied, smiling back in spite of himself. "You took me to the ER. You put a glass of water by my bed. I owe you."

"That's lame," she said, but she stood back and he walked in.

Booth started unpacking the bag onto the table and Brennan followed him into the kitchen.

"You didn't feel like cooking?" Booth asked. "I mean, you've got such a large, high-tech kitchen, you should use it more often. To cook mac and cheese, perhaps, and invite me."

"It's not that I didn't want to cook, I was just craving some Wong Foo's."

"Well, I can't blame you," he told her and turned to look at her. Her lips looked soft and full, curved in that comforting smile and he started to get dizzy again. _Kiss me._ "Want to go to the movies after dinner?"

"The movies?"

"An old Clara Bow movie is playing at ten o'clock."

"Really? I'd love to see that."

Booth grinned. "I know, that's why I asked you."

As planned, they had gone to the ten o'clock Clara Bow movie. It was a silent movie and Booth hadn't enjoyed it at all. The only reason he hadn't left the theater early was because Brennan did seem to have a good time. He decided that was what mattered.

After that, softball seemed a huge improvement, at least until he and Parker got to the park that Saturday morning. The first thing he noticed was that Brennan hadn't come alone. He wasn't sure if she had asked them or if they had invited themselves again, but Angela and Jack sat down next to them on the bleachers. Worse yet, they sat down in between them.

"So sweetie, give me an update," Angela said, leaning closer to Brennan.

"Well, I'm no expert, but it seems that Parker's team got killed in the first three innings."

Angela shook her head. "I mean, you and Booth."

Brennan looked at her friend wide-eyed. "What do you mean?"

"You told me two days ago that he took you to see an old Clara Bow movie he didn't enjoy seeing. It's part of the attraction stage."

"I didn't say he didn't enjoy himself."

"Oh, come on. It was a silent movie. It's not really Booth's genre, sweetie."

"Well, he didn't leave…"

"Which is why it's part of the attraction stage. He stayed for you."

"He's not attracted…" Brennan began.

"There are four stages to mature love," Angela explained. "Assumption, attraction, infatuation and attachment. Actually, with the way you're staring at each other, I think you're at the infatuation stage."

"I don't need a four-step program to love."

Angela laughed. "It's not a program. It's a theory that explains the stages of a relationship. It's not something you _need_, it's just there to explain it all."

"Well, it doesn't make much sense to me."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?"

Brennan figured it was a rhetorical question, so refrained from answering it. "So, you and Hodgins… you've reached the last stage, attachment?"

"I think getting married is a pretty solid attachment, don't you think?"

"Right."

"So, maybe you should give this a chance, apply it to your relationship with Booth," Angela told her. "Or you could just frigging fall in love already."

Brennan looked at her best friend for a moment, not sure how to take that last comment. She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again and Angela smiled triumphantly. That was reason enough for Brennan to speak up after all. "That's like saying you could just fall of a building. Because it won't hurt until you _land_."

"You think it will hurt? With Booth? No, sweetie, it won't," Angela told her sincerely.

"We're just partners," Brennan said weakly, although even _she_ didn't belief that line any longer.

**BBB**

Four days later, after having closed an awful case involving a little girl together, Booth and Brennan found themselves on the couch in her apartment, discussing the events of the last few days. They were both glad they had been able to catch the girl's murderer and that he was now locked behind bars awaiting his trial.

"Don't worry, Booth. Caroline will make sure he won't get his hands on anyone else," Brennan assured her partner, knowing these type of cases were always harder on him.

"I know. I'm sorry if I seem distant tonight. These cases just always make me think about Parker and about life in general. How fragile it really is and how many things I still need to do before I'm gone."

"I understand."

He looked at her and knew she did. His partner was probably the only person who could and he loved her for it. _Well, I love her for a lot of reasons._ "Which is why I think we should stop kidding ourselves."

"What do you mean?"

"This," he said and pointed between them. "For some reason we've fooled ourselves into believing that we can go back to normal after having crossed the line. But it doesn't work that way. It's not working for me."

"It's not?"

Booth looked at her. "Can you honestly tell me it's working for you?"

Brennan shook her head, she couldn't.

"I want us to be more than just partners, Bones."

"Me, too."

"So, you think we can give _us_ a shot?"

She nodded and he leaned in, his heart pounding and he kissed her without reservation. The familiar rush was fast and hot as always, hotter because they weren't fighting it, but there was comfort there, too. She felt so right under his hands, against his mouth and when she slipped her arms around his neck, he kissed her harder, falling into her helplessly, not even trying to save himself.

"I love you," he told her when they finally pulled apart. "I know we work together and that the lines we crossed were there for a reason, and that you might need more time, but I love you and that's not going to change."

Brennan took a deep breath for one needed air to talk. "Booth, I don't need more time. I love you, too."

They kissed again and she clutched at him, amazed that he loved her back.

* * *

**_I'd love to hear what you thought of this fourth chapter! _**

**_Only two chapter's left; the next one will be up shortly!_**


	5. The Highs and Lows

**Author's note:** a huge thank you to all of you who have left a review. They made my day! Also, I know a lot of people have this story on alert and, if you're one of them, I'd like to thank you for reading. Don't be shy and let me know what you think!

**Disclaimer: **Bones and all the characters therein are owned by FOX, Hart Hanson and Kathy Reichs. Bet Me belongs to Jennifer Crusie. Thus, anything you recognize doesn't belong to me.

* * *

**Chapter Five: The Highs and Lows**

Looking back on the rehearsal dinner, Brennan was not hard put to choose the low point of the evening. The dinner itself had been wonderful. Angela and Hodgins had looked happy and in love, the food was superb and Zack had given an amazingly sweet speech. It had been out of character for the young scientist—and he probably had said some things he didn't believe in himself—but Brennan knew he had given the speech because he valued their friendship. And she herself had been happy, too, simply because she was there with Booth and he loved her. Those had been the highlights of the evening.

The low point occurred toward the end of the meal, when they were all conversing over a cup of coffee after finishing dessert. Brennan's phone rang and she slipped outside, not wanting to disturb anyone with the call.

"Hello?"

"Tempe," Roger said. "I've been trying to get you all day."

"Why?" Brennan replied. "I am at the rehearsal dinner, Roger."

"It's about Seeley Booth," Roger told her and Brennan grew still. "I still care for you, Temperance, and you need to know something about him."

"What do I need to know about my boyfriend?" Brennan said flatly and smiled to herself. _It wasn't a lie this time. He is my boyfriend. I am dating him._

"That night he asked you to dinner?" Roger said. "He did it because he made a bet with that colleague of yours, Jack Hodgins, that he could get you into bed in three weeks and a day. I overheard."

"He did." _Tell me something I don't know._

"The bet's up the day after the wedding, Tempe. I thought you should know. I don't want you to get hurt."

"Gee, thanks."

"You don't sound upset."

"Boys will be boys, as I believe the saying goes."

"I thought you'd be shocked," Roger said, sounding shocked himself.

"Roger, I knew. You weren't the only one who overheard. And apparently you care so much for me you waited until now to tell me about it."

"Now _I'm_ the bad guy?"

"I didn't say that. What I did tell you is that I'm at the rehearsal dinner, so I'm going to hang up now," Brennan said and clicked off the phone. "Damn." She believed in Booth, she really did, she knew he was one of the good guys, but that bet…

She noticed that people were beginning to leave the restaurant, walking outside and over to their cars. Booth came outside as well and asked her if she wanted to go for a walk. Brennan agreed, thinking it gave her the opportunity to talk to him about the bet. They crossed the street and entered a small neighborhood park. Hand in hand, they walked in silence until they came upon a bench and sat down.

"There's something I need to ask you," Brennan started and Booth nodded, so she continued. "When you asked me out to dinner that night at The Long Shot, as your date, I agreed because I overheard the bet, or maybe despite overhearing…"

Booth cast an anxious look at her. "We talked about this already."

"Tell me the truth this time."

"I told you the truth."

"No, you didn't. I overheard you, remember?" Brennan said. "And you told me you collected on it already. But the bet's not up yet and we haven't slept together, so you didn't win."

Booth's eyes widened. "I didn't make that bet."

"Booth, I stood under the railing. I heard Hodgins bet you ten thousand dollars if we'd rip each other's clothes off and sleep together."

"Yes, you heard that right, but I meant that I didn't actually make that bet. I didn't agree to that one. Just the first one."

"There was another bet?"

"Yes, the one we talked about. Me taking you out to dinner. That was the only bet I made. You agreed, we had dinner, I won. Obviously, you didn't overhear the whole conversation, or you would have known," Booth said, getting a little angry now himself. "And if you knew me at all, you should've known I would never agree to such a bet in the first place. And Hodgins was only kidding anyway." _Well, partly kidding, I'm afraid._

"Oh."

"Yes. So, why did you agree to go to dinner with me if you thought it was just a ploy to get you into bed?"

"I went because Angela told me I needed a date for the wedding, to take revenge on Roger. I thought if I agreed to the dinner, you'd agree to the date. You know, a silent quid pro quo."

"So, you were playing _me_ then?"

Brennan realized the tables had turned on her now. "I wasn't playing you."

"But you never asked me about the bet."

"I did, but I guess we were talking about different bets then."

"If you had asked, I'd have told you I didn't make that bet."

"I believe you."

"A little late."

"Booth, let's just forget about the bet. All of them. You know how I feel about you. I love you. The bet doesn't matter."

"It doesn't matter? The person I trust most thought I'd made some sleazy bet. It hurts that you think that way about me," Booth said as he leapt up from the bench. "And I don't think I want to continue this conversation. I'm going home."

"Booth!" Brennan called after him, but he was walking way already.

**BBB**

Booth spent most of the next day fuming in his office, doing paperwork, which was only making things worse. It didn't help either that Rebecca had called to tell him he couldn't see his son that weekend, because she was taking him to her parents for a visit, his computer had crashed and his colleagues looked at him as if he'd been drowning puppies when he'd gone to get coffee. Worst of all, he missed Brennan so much, wanted her so much, that it was making him sick.

He leaned back in his desk chair and suddenly noticed that Angela was standing in the doorway. _What is it with all the Squints visiting my office lately?_ He sat upright again and beckoned her to enter. She did, closed the door behind her and sat down in one of the chairs that stood on the other side of the desk. He looked a question at her.

"When I came into work this morning I found Bren in her office and it was obvious that she'd been crying. She denied anything was wrong, of course, but I know better than that. What did you do?"

"Strangely enough, nothing," Booth replied, wondering why he was talking to her in the first place. After all, her husband-to-be had gotten him in all this trouble to begin with. "Why do you assume…"

She held up her hand. "I don't care. Get over it and get her back."

Booth sighed and, disregarding his instincts, began to tell her about the two bets and the fight they'd had about them.

"Well, it's a toss-up as to which of the two of you is dumber," Angela said ten minutes later, having heard the whole story.

"Hey!"

"You're desperately in love with each other and you're playing footsie with it. Do you know how rare what you have is?"

"Not that rare, since you'll be marrying Hodgins tomorrow."

"Yes, exactly. The wedding is tomorrow, so stop it. You love her, so make things right."

"Yes, I do love her. Which shows you how stupid I really am."

"Oh, for heaven's sake, call her. Tell her you're sorry."

Booth jerked his head up. "Hey, I'm the injured party here."

"Yeah," Angela said. "That been keeping you warm at night, has it? Call her. Tell her you want to talk to her the day after the wedding. Take a nice bottle of wine, tell her you love her, work out this non-problem and live happily ever after."

"Why only then and not right now?" Booth asked, confused. "Why wait that long? What good is that going to do?"

"Because by then you'll have lost the bet," Angela told him.

"I didn't make the bet," Booth replied in exasperation. "Your husband of all people can testify to that."

"He's not my husband yet," Angela smiled. "And I know. It doesn't matter, though. You hurt her, too. But it's going to be okay. All you have to do is throw the bet. Big deal, you lose a little pride and a couple of bucks."

"Ten thousand bucks."

"Okay, that's a lot of money," Angela said, then shrugged. "Well, my husband is awfully rich…"

"He's not your husband yet," Booth grinned. "One more day until you're rich as well."

"You know that's not why I'm marrying him."

"Well, it can't be because of his looks."

"What? He's sexy as hell," Angela told him. "Anyway, I think Bren is worth losing ten thousand dollars."

"Hell yes," Booth replied. "And since I didn't make that bet in the first place, I'm not losing any money to begin with."

"Well, there you are. Go call her and tell her you'll see her after you lose the bet," Angela told him, folding her arms. "Well, you'll see her at the wedding first, of course, but don't sleep with her until… what time exactly is the bet up?"

"I think at eight o'clock."

"Okay, tell her that."

"Right. Thank you, Angela. Now, if you'll leave my office, I have to make a phone call."

**BBB**

Booth was rehearsing his speech when the phone rang, startling him, but when he picked it up and heard Brennan's tentative greeting, he forgot it all. Before he could start, she already began to apologize, her words coming out in a rush.

"I was wrong not to tell you I knew about the bet. I was wrong not to trust you. Everything you said in the park was right. It's my fault. I want you back. I want us back. I love you and I need you."

Relief made Booth dizzy.

"And I want to see you now," she continued.

Booth thought, _Christ yes_, and then the other shoe dropped. "Now?" he said and looked at the clock. Fifty-seven hours before the bet was up. _Just tell her yes_, he thought, _she doesn't care about the bet anymore, she said so_. And then he remembered how she'd sounded when she'd said it in the park.

"Yes, can I come over?"

"No, I'll come to you. Later," he told her and swallowed. "In fifty-seven hours."

"Fifty-seven hours?" Brennan exclaimed.

"That's when the bet is up. You know I didn't make it, but I want you to be _sure_ that I didn't. I love you, but I can't come over until then."

"What about the wedding? I won't see you there?"

"Yes, I'll still be your date. We'll go to the wedding and the reception, we'll go to work the next day and in the evening, I'll bring dinner and we can finally be together."

"I can't wait."

"Me neither, Bones. I love you."

"I love you, too, and I'll see you tomorrow."

**BBB**

The wedding was beautiful and since Angela and Hodgins actually did get married this time around, the party afterwards was spectacular. They had really gone all out, making sure everyone would be enjoying themselves.

Brennan and Booth certainly were. There were only two negative points. The first was that Roger had come to the wedding as well. Angela had told them earlier that she couldn't possibly un-invite him. When they'd reminded her it was _her_ wedding, she'd told them they were right and she was sorry. She had grinned then and told them to look on the bright side. At least this gave them the perfect opportunity to make the man jealous. The couple, however, didn't care about that any longer—they were just waiting out the last twenty-two hours of the bet—and were glad when Roger had left the party early.

The second negative point was the aforementioned wait. Twenty-two hours until the bet was officially up and they could hardly wait to celebrate that fact. Hodgins had reassured them once again that the bet had not been made, but now it had become a matter of principle. They knew they were making it unnecessarily hard on themselves, but it was to prove a point. And they knew it would be good.

* * *

**_As per usual, reviews are greatly appreciated!_**

**_The final chapter will be up on Friday!_**


	6. The Odds

**Author's note:** thanks again for all the wonderful reviews! Today I present you with the final chapter; I hope it was worth the wait.

**Rating:** I started out with a **T rating**, but I feel that perhaps it should be upgraded to **M** because of this last chapter. Let me know if you agree and I'll make sure to change that.

**Disclaimer: **Bones and all the characters therein are owned by FOX, Hart Hanson and Kathy Reichs. Bet Me belongs to Jennifer Crusie. Thus, anything you recognize doesn't belong to me.

* * *

**Chapter Six: The Odds**

At six-thirty, Booth had a bottle of wine and a box of Krispy Kremes ready to take to Brennan's apartment and an hour and a half of rabid sexual frustration to kill when the phone rang.

"Booth," Angela said when he answered. "You have to go to Bren _right now_."

"Angela? Aren't you supposed to be on your honeymoon?"

"Yes, which is why I can't talk any longer, I have to make love to my husband now," she grinned. "And you have to go over to her apartment right now. She's _in trouble_."

"What…" Booth said, but all he heard was a dial tone. He hung up the phone and headed over to Brennan's apartment, deeply suspicious.

When he knocked on the door, Brennan opened it, hauling him inside. She was dressed in a short black trench coat and had a glint in her eyes. She was grinning at him and his pulse kicked up.

"Angela gave me this coat right before she left for her honeymoon."

"Oh." He didn't know what to say, or what that even meant.

"I have news for you, Charm Boy. You are not going to throw this bet."

"Charm Boy?" Booth laughed. She had never given him a nickname before.

"Yes, because of your charm smile, which I can't resist for some reason."

"That's good to know, but I _am_ going to throw this bet," Booth told her, retreating around her couch. "If we sleep together now, there will come a day when we're arguing about the electric bill and you'll say, you only dated me for the bet. I'm not paying for this for the rest of my life when all I have to do is wait an hour and a half." He looked at the clock on the wall. "Well, seventy minutes."

"The rest of your life, huh?"

"Yes, Bones, the rest of my life. You'd think I'd go through all this just for sex?"

"Did I mention I'm not wearing underwear?" Brennan said and slid around the couch and he backed around to the other side.

"You do this to torture me, don't you?"

"No, I'm doing this to get you into bed. The torture is just a perk."

"Bones."

"No. I don't want to spend the rest of my life as the bet you lost," she told him and pulled a ten-dollar bill out of her trench coat pocket. "I've got ten bucks says I'm going to have you naked and inside me before eight o'clock."

Booth went dizzy for a moment and couldn't belief what he was hearing. _Is this the same woman I've worked with for three years? _When he'd shaken his head to clear it, she'd slapped the ten on the table by the couch.

"There it is," Brennan said. "You going to be a wimp, or are you going to play?"

She was smiling at him, heat and love in her eyes, and he started to laugh. "It's seventy minutes, not three weeks and a day. You really think I can't hold out that long?"

"Yep."

He got out his wallet, took out a ten and slapped it on top of her ten. "You're on. Let's see what you've got, Bones."

She unbuckled her trench coat, dropped the belt onto the couch and took off the coat. She was wearing a strapless black lace nightgown and, as far as Booth could see, there was nothing holding it up.

"I know it would have been better if I'd been naked."

"Actually," Booth said, staring at her. "Now I'm going to think about ripping that off you for the next seventy minutes, so this may be the way to go." He looked at the top of the nightgown where the lace cut into her flesh. "It doesn't look that hard to get off."

Brennan put her finger inside the top of the lace and snapped it. "Elastic. One good tug and…"

"Not for seventy minutes." He looked at the clock. "Sixty-five minutes. But I want to make it clear that when the time's up, you're mine."

"Oh yeah," Brennan said, nodding.

"Well, then," Booth said. "Read any good books lately?"

"No," Brennan replied. "I can't read, or write, because all I can think about is you."

"That must be boring."

"Not really," she answered, moving closer.

"You know, I'm not that good in bed."

Brennan reversed direction and surprised him, grabbing his shirt. "That's alright. I'm fantastic."

She straddled him, her soft weight pinning him down and Booth thought, _I should do something about this_, but even as he thought it, his hands were on her, feeling her heat through the scratch of the lace. She leaned into him and he closed his eyes as her breasts pushed softly against his chest. She kissed him and her mouth was hot and sweet.

He tightened his hands on her and pulled her close. "Christ, I've missed you," he said against her mouth.

"I missed you, too," she said, not playing anymore. "I don't ever want to be without you again."

"You never will," Booth said. "I'm not walking away from you again. Ever." He made sure she knew he was serious, for he knew she'd been left one too many times before. "I mean it. You've got me for life."

"Thank you."

Brennan sat back and took a deep breath and Booth watched, heat rising. He lost his own breath and put his forehead against her shoulder.

"Men are very visual."

"Yeah." Booth slid his finger under the elastic edge of her nightgown. "That's why I like this thing you're not wearing. But I still want a chance to rip your sweats off you, too."

"My sweats?"

"Yes, I've been thinking about that ever since you opened the door in them. But that will have to wait until later," he said, remembering the bet. "Sixty minutes. What do you want to do? Got a Scrabble board?"

"I'll use dirty words. You'll be uncomfortable."

"Alright, so that's out of the question," Booth said with a smile. "So, what's new with you?"

"What's new with me?" she laughed. "That would be saying to you that you can have me any way you want me."

She sat up and pulled him to her again. He shifted on the couch to make more room for her and felt something dig into his hip. Brennan kissed his neck and he shivered as he reached behind him and pulled out her coat belt, buckle first. Then she bit him.

"Ouch."

She leaned back and smiled at him. "You're going to win the bet with Hodgins and lose the bet to me, Special Agent Seeley Booth," she said. "Think of it as breaking even."

He looked at her and thought, _she's right_, and then looked at the belt in his hand. "Just for the record, no matter what I'll do, you'll love me?"

"Yes."

"Good."

He tipped her back onto the couch and stretched her wrists over her head. "I like being in control, Bones."

"I know," she replied and smiled up at him. "I can work with that."

He kissed her again and while she was distracted, he wrapped the belt around her wrists. She broke the kiss, but he'd already wrapped the end of the belt around the arm of the couch. She stretched up to see her wrists as he tied the knot.

"This is a little kinky, Booth. Especially for you."

"Not really," he said, getting up. "You know, I had a dozen doughnuts to bring here, but now we don't have them. I forgive you because that's the kind of relationship we have." He got up and moved to her kitchen. "So, what do you want to talk about for…" He stretched to see the clock. "Fifty-seven minutes?"

"Booth."

There was a familiar green and white sack on the kitchen counter. "Krispy Kremes," he said. "Great minds think alike." He brought the sack back into the living room. "You know, Bones, you tortured me for three weeks, better yet make that three years, looking so good I lost my mind every time I saw you. I wanted you so much I was insane from it." He looked down at her, tied to the couch. "Still am, evidently."

"Okay, I'm sorry about that," Brennan said, tugging on the belt. "Three years, really?"

"So, now it's your turn." He sat down across from her. "Now I'm going to torture you."

Brennan stopped tugging. "This could be good. What are you going to do?"

He took a Krispy Kreme out of the bag. "I'm going to eat this in front of you," he said and bit into the doughnut.

Brennan scowled at Booth, but all he did was grin back, looking desirable as all hell while he finished his second doughnut. Slowly.

"And you wonder why I wouldn't sleep with you," she said. "It was because I sensed the sadist in you." She shifted to get more comfortable and watched his jaw tense. _Hello_, she thought and shifted again. "You know," she started, trying a new strategy. "This is scaring me. There's a strange man in my apartment and I'm tied to my couch. I'm _terrified_." She tried to put some fear into her voice, but it was hard since it was soaked with lust.

"Funny. I'm not a stranger and you're not terrified. You just look pissed off," Booth said as he picked up the remote. "TV?"

Brennan gritted her teeth. "Men get arrested for this. You should know."

"Only if they get caught. Besides, I work at the FBI. I'm not scared," Booth told her. "I usually check CNN about this time." He looked down at her. "Of course, I usually don't have something better to look at. You have a great body."

"Oh please. I know you want to get laid, but…"

"Guys buy magazines to look at breasts like yours," he continued. "And here I am with a pair tied to a couch." He tossed the remote back on the coffee table. "CNN has lost its appeal."

"If I ever get off this couch," Brennan said through her teeth. "You're never seeing these breasts again. Now untie me."

"You didn't think that through. Try again."

"Booth…"

"Do you have any idea," he said conversationally. "How hard it is for me to keep my hands off you?"

"So untie me and let's go," she said, starting to feel cheerful again.

"Forty minutes," Booth said. "What do you want to talk about?"

_Okay,_ Brennan told herself. _You're not thinking. You have the upper hand here, aside from being tied to the couch. He wants you. He can have you. He just needs jump-started._ "I've wanted you, too," she said, relaxing back against the pillows.

"Right," Booth said, picking up another doughnut. "That's why it took us this long."

"Remember that picnic in the park? I wanted to knock you down and rip off your shirt and bite into you."

Booth stopped with the doughnut halfway in his mouth.

"I used to close my eyes and imagine you naked against me, all the things you'd do to me." He drew back a little and she continued. "Especially my breasts. I have really sensitive breasts, did I mention that? I could almost come just imagining your mouth on my…"

"You don't play fair."

"_I_ don't?" Brennan said, trying to rise up. "I'm _tied to the couch_. How is that fair?"

"It's not. One of the many reasons I like it." He watched her exhale in frustration and then he scooped up some chocolate icing off the doughnut with his finger. "Do you know how many fantasies I've had about your body?" He drew his finger around the slope of her breast, smearing the chocolate under the lace and Brennan sucked in her breath. "This wasn't one of them," he said, marking her other breast the same way. "But it should have been."

"Sticky," Brennan said, complete sentences escaping her for the moment.

"Not a problem," Booth replied, bending over her. "It's coming right off."

"Pervert," she said, closing her eyes as she felt his tongue on her.

"Yes," he responded, moving the lace lower. "But you like it."

"Ha."

Booth straightened enough to look into her eyes. "Want me to stop?"

She felt his hand under her breast, felt his thumb move across the heat there to the edge of the lace. "I want everything you've got," she told him and watched his eyes darken as his hand tightened on her. "Untie me."

"Nope."

Brennan arched against him and he pushed her back, his breath coming faster, and bent down to her again. This time, he pulled down the lace and when she felt his mouth on her, she arched as every nerve she had flared in relief. He pulled back as she jerked and looked down at her, breathing hard. Just as she realized he was staring at her naked breast, he stripped the rest of the nightgown down so she was naked to the waist. She moved instinctively to cover herself, but remembered she was tied.

"God, you're beautiful," he said, still staring at her breasts.

She tugged at the belt, torn between embarrassment and lust, and then he slid his hands up to cup her breasts. Lust won. She closed her eyes and felt the heat of his mouth on her again, felt herself tighten and shudder and, pressed against him, praying he wouldn't stop.

**BBB**

Fifteen minutes later, Booth picked up the rest of the third doughnut and Brennan tried to remember her name.

"What are you _doing_?" she asked him.

"Pacing myself," Booth answered, sounding ragged. He bit into the doughnut. "I figure," he continued after he'd swallowed. "That as long as I have this in my mouth, I won't put you there." He looked at the clock. "We've got twenty-five minutes. I don't think you bought enough doughnuts."

"Could you at least pull my nightgown up?"

"Nope." Booth finished the doughnut. "I'm thinking you should always go topless."

"Because that'll help us solve more crimes?"

"Not in public. Just at home."

"I will if you untie me. All I want is to make love so we can put this dumb bet behind us and start a real relationship, although maybe not after this." She yanked on the belt again. "This could set us back some."

"Nope," Booth said, insufferably calm. "We agreed that nothing could hurt this relationship now. It's a little bent, but I like that about us."

"You're a little bent. I am completely normal. Now untie me and make love to me. The kind you spoke of in the diner that one time."

Booth caught his breath for a minute and Brennan thought, _take me_, but he bit into the doughnut again and she exhaled through her teeth in frustration.

"Maybe I'm filling the wrong mouth," he said and tore off a piece of the doughnut. "Open up." Booth slipped the pastry into her mouth. The sugar flooded everywhere and she let the chocolate melt into her senses. "My goal in life is to put that look on your face without chocolate."

Brennan swallowed. "You do. You're just never looking at me when it's on there."

"Really."

Booth cupped her breast and began to stroke her with his thumb. Brennan felt herself tighten under him again, but this time, when she opened her eyes, he was staring at her, watching her and she blushed. From embarrassment, from heat and from wanting him.

"Damn, you're right," he said and bent to kiss her.

She forgot to be embarrassed and rose to taste him as he caressed her, sighing against his mouth. "Untie me," she whispered and he looked over her head.

"Nope, we still have twenty minutes to kill." He slid his hand down her calf. "I think I'll start with the toes this time. It's never been toes for me before, so this will be new."

"You're going to suck my toes for half an hour?" Brennan asked in disbelief.

"I'm going to start at your toes and work up."

"Up?"

"And in about fifteen minutes, you're going to lose the rest of this nightgown."

**BBB**

At a quarter to eight, having been touched everywhere she could imagine and a couple of places she hadn't thought of, Brennan felt Booth untie her. She sat up and slugged him on the arm.

"Don't _ever_ do that again."

"Ouch."

She pushed him back and climbed onto his lap and kissed him hard, wrapping herself around him as tightly as she could. When she came up for air, she slapped him on the shoulder again. "I mean it, never again." Then, she went for his mouth again, hungry for it. A minute later she broke the kiss, breathing heavily and slugged him again. "_Never _ever again."

"Really?" he asked as breathless as she was.

She looked back at the arm of the couch, the belt still tangled around it, and shivered. "Well, not in the living room. And not for so long…"

He dumped her back on the couch, pressing her against the pillows. "When we do it again," he told her, his hands hot on her. "It'll be where I want, when I want, with spotlights if I want."

"I don't think so," she replied and he kissed her again. _Oh hell, whatever you want._ She kissed him back.

"Whatever I want," he whispered in her ear.

"Okay," she whispered back. "But can I have you now?"

"Almost," Booth said into her neck. "Ten…"

"You know what my favorite fantasy is?" she whispered in his ear and he groaned. "It's you, sliding hard inside me." His hand tightened on her. "I love that part of sex, the first part, the way it feels. And it's going to be the best with you, because everything else with you has been the best I've ever had. The way I feel when you touch me, the way you kiss me, that's why I know the way you…"

He kissed her hard, pushing her back on the pillows, taking her voice and her breath away. "Shut up, we've got ten minutes yet," he said when he stopped and began to lick his way down her body.

"Uh," she said as he set every nerve she had alight again. "What are you going to do for ten minutes?" He bit into her thigh as he moved her legs apart with his hand and licked inside her. _I'm going to lose ten dollars._

**BBB**

When Brennan was wound so tight, she was shaking, Booth laced his fingers in her hair and turned her head to show her the clock. "It's one minute past eight o'clock," he said, his voice husky. "I lost the bet to Hodgins. It's over."

"We wasted a whole minute?" Brennan said wildly.

"You weren't complaining," he grinned, resting his head on her stomach.

"Take me to bed or do me on this couch," she said, breathing hard. "I want you _now_."

Booth pulled her up off the couch and toward the bedroom. She tripped behind him and then gasped as he toppled her onto her satin comforter, her body sizzling against the cool fabric as he stripped and found a condom. Then, he was beside her, pressed hotly against her and she closed her eyes to savor him, bone and muscle hard against her.

"Don't wait," she said and felt his hands on her again, sliding over her, making every nerve she had scream. When his fingers slipped inside her again, she opened to him, shaking under him and when she felt his body between her thighs, she arched to meet him, desperate to feel him hard inside her.

His eyes were hot on her and she stared back, caught, crazy for him. He kissed her and slipped his tongue in her mouth as he slid into her, slick and hot, and she gasped and clutched at him as the shock of him went everywhere. He pulled back and then slid deeper. She bit her lip, weak with pleasure as heat thickened in her. She began to move with him, catching his rhythm, dizzy with the rightness of him, of them together. He whispered in her ear as he moved against her, telling her that he loved her, that she was beautiful, that she was his, over and over and over, until she could feel him everywhere, his voice and his breath and his hands and his body, all loving her, making her drunk with love and lust.

She licked her tongue across his lips and she told him she loved him, forever, and she felt him everywhere. In her fingertips, behind her eyes and deep and low where they were locked together, where the heat and the pressure and the tension twisted and tightened. They were one, they had broken the laws of physics and she now understood exactly what he had meant that time at the diner. He rocked higher, sharper and she dug her fingernails into him and cried his name as he rocked again and again. Then she broke, arching under his hands as he held her down, spasming helplessly as his body surged against hers. And then, while she was still clutching him, still gasping from shattering ecstasy, he shuddered, too, and collapsed into her arms.

"Oh," Brennan breathed, barely able to speak.

"Good?"

She nodded her head. "Very good. World class. Phenomenal." She took a deep breath to stop the gasping and he slid his hand up to her breast where it belonged. She put her hand over his and pressed it tighter to her. She drew in another breath. "I love you."

"I love you, too," he said, looking exhausted. He rolled his head and caught sight of her clock. "Oh Christ. Just for the record, I usually last more than seven minutes." He felt his head fall back onto her pillow. "Of course, foreplay usually doesn't last three weeks." He took a deep breath. "Go ahead. Tell me the statistics on how long foreplay should last anthropologically speaking."

"Not long, but I'm glad you're the exception," Brennan told him with a smile. "Maybe I'll tie you to this headboard someday and _I'll_ do the chocolate icing."

Booth closed his eyes. "Thank you. I'd like that. Make a list. We'll do it all. Probably not tonight, but eventually."

Brennan curled into him as her pulse began to slow. He rolled closer to her and kissed her. She settled into him, safe and warm and satisfied.

"What happens next?" she asked him, meeting his eyes.

"You want me to be philosophic about the future now? I'm not even sure where I left my pants," he laughed, then turned serious. "We're going to take it one day at a time. I don't know anything about this, either. I didn't plan for this, but I think we just stick together. Take care of each other." He grinned. "Bet you ten bucks we make it."

_What are the odds?_ She realized with sudden, blinding clarity that she wouldn't take the other side of that bet. That only a loser would bet against them. _This is really it_, she thought, amazed. _This is really forever. I believe in this._

"Bones?"

She kissed him, putting all her heart into it. "No bet," she said against his mouth. "Our odds are too good."

* * *

**_So, that was it. The End. Finito!_**

**_Let me know what you think of it!_**


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